


now and then firelight will catch us

by maviswrites



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Arson, Awkward Flirting, Beth is a Little Bit of a Pyromaniac, Cunnilingus, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene Smut, Daryl has no idea how to flirt and you can't take that away from me, Drunk Sex, Emotional Sex, Episode: s04e12 Still, F/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Masturbation, There's A Tag For That, honestly this isn't really that explicit but tagging just in case, this episode changed me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 09:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21072905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maviswrites/pseuds/maviswrites
Summary: It’s been a long day, the heat of sex and alcohol still burns the blood in her veins, and she thinks back to how beautiful the moonshine shack looked, lit up in flames and unsalvageable even if they’d changed their minds. No point in going back, and no way either.//Beth and Daryl have some fun after the events of "Still."





	now and then firelight will catch us

**Author's Note:**

> God, I used to be so in love with Bethyl. It still holds a special place in my shipper heart. (I'm still in denial about you-know-what.) I wrote this silly piece of smut/fluff about - oh, four years ago? And just found it on my laptop about an hour ago and decided "screw it, I'll post it." My writing style has changed a lot since then, but oddly enough when I went back and read this I didn't hate it. Here's hoping you enjoy!
> 
> Title is taken from Suzi Quatro's "Stumblin' In."

She’s staring at the way the water bottle in her hand warps the light of the fire. Through the slightly crumpled plastic, the fire doesn’t seem dangerous or tangible. It’s wild but contained, untouchable and directionless.

She can relate.

“Gonna need more food soon. Hangover on an empty stomach’s not a good idea,” Daryl mutters from across the fire. She looks up from the view through the water bottle, startled by his sudden speech. “We’ll search for some at dawn. I’ll take first watch.”

Beth glances back down at the fire. She’s a little drunk, still, her blood vibrating in her veins and her heart pumping in her ears. The fire’s warmth is adding to the heat in her body, making her feel like she’s in a crowded room, one filled with real people and not with the dead. She shivers, but more from the thought of the latter situation than the cold night air that she knows she should be feeling. “That’s okay,” she can dimly hear herself saying. “I got it this time. You ain’t slept more than a couple of hours in days.”

She looks up after a moment when he doesn’t reply, seeing him giving her a dubious look. “Can hold my liquor better’n you,” he says lowly, when he catches her looking at him.

“I can keep watch,” she retorts, unable to help herself from getting irritated at his lack of faith. “You need the rest. I can handle it,” she insists when he quirks the side of his mouth in contemplation. “I’ll wake you if there’s trouble. I promise. Now lay down.”

Daryl sighs, raising up his hands in surrender before lying down on the ground. “Wake me if ya need something.” When she doesn’t respond, he huffs once before curling on the side facing away from her. The fire will warm his back and he’ll also be able to see out into the dark, because he knows that she’s strong but strong doesn’t always mean you’re at your best when you haven’t slept and you’re drunk. At least he’s so used to it that, despite the long break from alcohol after the dead started walking, he knows how to calm himself down from it eventually.

For a few moments, there’s nothing but both of their quiet breathing. He can feel himself drifting. Maybe he’ll get some sleep after all…

Then he hears it. A small muffled noise, like a moan. For a minute, he wonders if there’s a walker near the camp, because it sounded close, but then he stops and thinks. Beth’d know. She’d cry out. So he doesn’t move from his spot.

It happens again. A little stifled cry, sounding like it comes from low in the throat, and he resists the urge to roll over, knowing now from the proximity that it’s coming from Beth. And it doesn’t sound like a nightmare.

~~~

She didn’t mean for it to happen. But it’s been so _long_ since she felt safe enough to do this. Even those last weeks in the prison felt dangerous because of how thickly the ghost of the sickness lingered over them all. And then the Governor was there, back again like just another reason to make them all understand how unfair the world could be these days, how everything could fall apart in a split second. And she and Daryl have been running so fast and so far from that burned-up mess of a lost home that she hasn’t had a moment to herself practically since the beginning of their time together. But for once it’s her on watch and not him, and their guards are slightly less up now, and she feels like he would understand her need to have this.

It’s been so long. And now, here, with her mind aware but slightly blurry with moonshine, and the warmth of the fire on her, and the comfort of Daryl being nearby enough to help if anything goes wrong, she feels like it might be okay to have a moment of indulgence. Even if they’re out in the open, this is a deserted part of the woods and she’ll hear a walker long before it gets close.

Touching herself down there in a way that isn’t related to bathing feels strange, but Beth braces for a second and then continues. It takes, unsurprisingly, very little to get her worked up, and she finds herself rubbing a thumb across her clit roughly, desperate to get to her first climax in a good long while. A couple of moans slip out before she can silence them completely, and she shuts her eyes in the hopes that it doesn’t attract any attention. After a second, she relaxes and continues, her eyes still closed.

Then a hand covers her wrist where it’s exposed above her jeans’ waistband.

She looks up, startled. Daryl looks back at her, his face inscrutable and his eyes glowing in the firelight. His grip on her wrist tightens before his thumb rubs right at the vein, just once before he realizes he’s done it and promptly stops. “Maybe I should be the one on watch, since you’re so busy,” he says, then looks away nervously as if he’s hiding a blush.

It takes her a minute to catch on that he’s actually joking with her, if awkwardly, and then she huffs out a little laugh, withdrawing her hand. He lets her go as she does, and she misses the warmth. “Thought you were sleeping,” she says, the alcohol making her bold. The effects are starting to wane off, and she can’t tell if her ensuing shiver results from the cold she can now feel or the way his breath brushes her throat.

“Was gonna, but you were makin’ too much noise,” he rasps, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah?” she breathes. “Think I might need some help with something.”

“What?”

She leans forward and kisses him. There’s no tongue at first, just a chaste meeting of mouths, before she pushes forward, and he lets her open his mouth with hers. Her tongue flicks across his teeth before awkwardly meeting with his, and she giggles at his surprised sound low in his throat. He pulls away, his mouth in a tight line and his gaze directed away from her and toward the fire.

“Oh, come on,” she says when he doesn’t look back. “I didn’t mean to laugh at ya. It’s just strange.”

He does look up at her then through his bangs, his eyes half-lit with rage and hurt and the fire’s glow. “Well, if ya didn’t like it, ya didn’t have to—”

“Who said I didn’t like it?” she interrupts, crawling a few inches on her hands and knees until she’s right next to him. “I did like it. Didn’t you?”

His eyes shift from her and away, like he’s unsure of his place here. “M’not—”

Beth puts a hand on his where it rests in his lap, which shuts him up immediately. “Cause if ya didn’t,” she says, leaning closer until he’s forced to make eye contact, “then we’ll stop, and I’ll never mention it again. But you seemed to. And I liked it. A lot. And I wanna do it again.”

He looks at her as though searching her eyes for the truth, then scoffs and looks away. “You’re drunk.”

“No!” she tugs at his hand. “I mean, a little, yeah, but I know what I’m doing. I know that you’re the one everybody trusts because you’re reliable and strong and loyal. I know you’re sweet, too, and that you care. I know you’re not the asshole that I made you out to be when we first met. You’re the man who took care of Judith, who tried to save Zach and tried to make me feel better when you couldn’t. And I know…” she pauses then smiles. “I know you’re a good friend and a damn good kisser. I wouldn’t wanna be stuck with anybody else in this situation. And I know I trust you. So… lemme kiss you again. Please. I’m not gonna regret it in the morning, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Daryl’s eyes are wider than before, his mouth slack before it tenses again like he’s getting ready to yell and storm off. But then, instead, inexplicably, he relaxes a little. And he tips his head lower till his eyes meet hers and they’re almost close enough to touch foreheads. “Go on, then,” he whispers.

She surges up and kisses him. He tastes like moonshine and some of the tinned pears they’d found in the cabin before burning it down. It’s a strange taste, oddly sweet but mixed in with the stale taste of unbrushed teeth. She’s sure she doesn’t taste much better, but he seems to like it and he’s kissing her back and, god, that feels good. Everything with Jimmy was so innocent and young—she never even touched him or vice versa—but with Daryl she feels the rush of blood from her head to her cunt as she moans with exhilaration. His hands go to her hip and her hair, the latter all tangled up in the blonde knots, and she fits hers around his neck. One of her hands mixes itself up in his hair, lank and long but thick and the perfect length for pulling. Her fingers tighten in his hair and he moans back at her, a little cut-off sound before he breaks the kiss.

The heat of him tingles along her lips even as he pulls away. She huffs with annoyance. “Don’t stop,” she pleads, catching his hand as he tries to bring it away from her hip and toward his lap. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He snorts. “That ain’t the problem.” When she looks to him for clarification, he shrugs and says, “Not sure I could stop anyway, not without a dip in the river. Just… just needed a break.”

“You’ve… you’ve done this before, right?”

“S’just been a while, s’all.” He picks at his thumbnail. “And you deserve better’n this for your first time.”

Now Beth snorts. “Ain’t my first.” He looks at her, startled, and she rolls her eyes. “Me and Zach did it a coupla times before he, uh… died. So it ain’t a big deal. You aren’t gonna hurt me or anything. So can we just…? Please?” she asks, trying not to show her quiet desperation.

Daryl bites at his lip, studying her, before muttering, “Fuck it,” and slipping a hand around the back of her head. He pulls at her, his fingers twisting into her hair, and kisses her so hard their teeth clack together. It’s awkward but it’s real and warm and before she knows it, he’s slipped his hand down her jeans. He can’t get the right angle, though, so she gently pushes him away and unzips it, jerks them down.

From here she knows he can see the wet spot on her panties, and he licks his lips before using both hands to, ever so tenderly, tug her underwear down past her thighs and to her knees. There, he leaves them, and she hurriedly kicks them off completely.

“Zach ever taste you?” he says, his eyes not leaving her pussy.

“No,” she breathes out.

“Want me to—?”

She exhales quickly, hissing at the need for friction. “_Please_.”

Practically before the word exits her lips, he’s ducked down, fingers in a tight grip on both of her thighs, and he’s eating her out. He’s not too experienced, she can tell, but he more than makes up for it in his enthusiasm, the way he’s licking every inch of her. He finds her clit and she claps a hand over her mouth before she can scream; he must hear or see her reaction, because he keeps going back to it for strong, hard licks that nearly send her over the edge. It’s only the thought of more that keeps her from coming right there.

“Stop,” she gasps out, one hand going to his hair to pull him off of her. He comes unwillingly, licking her juices off his lips and looking up at her through his bangs, heated fire in his eyes. “Stop, ain’t gonna last if you keep that up.”

“Who says I want you to?” he says, his voice low like a growl.

“I do,” she insists. “C’mon, I… I want you inside me.”

He nods once, reaching down to unzip his own jeans. She doesn’t assist him, figuring he might want to do it himself, and he slides them down to reveal some boxers that are approaching this side of nasty. She grimaces, but it isn’t exactly like her panties are perfectly clean either, so she doesn’t chide him as he pushes those off, too.

There’s an awkward pause. Daryl presses his lips together nervously as she looks at him in silence.

“Well,” she says finally, “you’re bigger than Zach.”

“Zach was just a kid,” he mumbles. “Dealing with an old man, here.”

Beth snickers. “I think I can handle it. Now, c’mon, old man, I’m getting impatient,” she urges, reaching down and stroking his cock lightly with one fingertip before he can stop her, from root to tip. A reflexive shudder goes through him almost violently, and he looks at her in shock before pouncing on her.

His face is in her neck, his mouth pressing chaste firm kisses to the skin of her throat and shoulder, as he pushes himself fully in. She’s wet enough that she only feels a slow burn, one that’s just as pleasant as it is painful. For a moment, they’re content to just lie there, but then she threads her fingers through his hair, and he takes it as a signal to move. Slowly, he begins to thrust, and she bites back a moan as he does the same.

She comes first, her back arching off the ground with a long guttural whimper as she claws at his vest-covered back. Daryl doesn’t even flinch, just keeps pressing kisses into her skin, kisses that have turned wet and rough and needy. Barely a minute later, he feels the pressure in his lower stomach rise to a crescendo, and he thrusts one last time before pulling out and coming on her leg. “Sorry,” he exhales, reaching for the bandanna in his pocket to use to wipe her off.

“Stop, s’fine,” she says, fingers still shaking from the aftershock of her orgasm as she intertwines their fingers. “Ain’t no big deal. Been covered in guts for days.”

He lets her slide her fingers through his, enjoys the warmth coming from her sweat-slicked body that combats the night’s breeze. Slowly, hesitantly, his head settles on her chest, and he thinks how ridiculous they both must look, with shirts on but no pants or underwear. He stifles an inappropriate snicker and closes his eyes. “Was nice,” he murmurs, not knowing what else to say.

Beth smiles, looking up at the stars through the trees. “Yeah, it was,” she whispers back. “Now sleep. I’ll wake you up for watch later.”

“’Kay,” he murmurs, sleepily childish, and within seconds his breathing is deeper and slower, his body less tense and muscles relaxed.

She combs her fingers through his hair and listens to him sleep. It’s been a long day, the heat of sex and alcohol still burns the blood in her veins, and she thinks back to how beautiful the moonshine shack looked, lit up in flames and unsalvageable even if they’d changed their minds. No point in going back, and no way either. Beth looks down at him, the way his arm curls around her stomach even in his sleep, and thinks of how embarrassed and silent he’ll be in the morning. How she’ll have to convince him that she liked it, and that she likes him.

Beth smiles and looks toward the dying embers of the fire. She wouldn’t want to go back, anyway. This right here is just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think :)


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